


In June

by q_uell



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Child Abuse, F/F, I'll keep tagging as I go, M/M, Multi, Physical Abuse, Pining, Renjun struggles mentally here, Sexual Content, Slow Burn, Verbal Abuse, some horror elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-10-27 20:01:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20766143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/q_uell/pseuds/q_uell
Summary: High school was not the place to be on the fence with who you were. Others sensed it immediately - the shrunken shoulders, the hard stare. A walking opposition. Renjun would rather be feared than loved. So he walked the halls with his head held high and his heart behind his sleeve.Renjun was very much content with this reality. It was familiar; it was safe. But everything was starting to fall out of his control. The popular kids were invading his comfortable bubble. His idiot best friend was doing nothing to keep said bubble from popping. And on top of it, he was trying to keep hidden a dark secret that threatened to destroy everything he'd worked so hard to build.High school sucked.





	1. Chapter 1

“Do you want to die?” Renjun asked calmly. He was lying stomach down on his bedroom floor, pencil perched between his fingertips, legs swinging back and forth. There were a few more knocks, as if in defiance, and then they finally stopped.

Renjun had ignored it at first - if it were his mother, she would’ve given up on knock three. He wasn’t surprised when the door swung open and an irritated Sicheng stood on the other side.

“Do you? What’s with the music?” Sicheng scowled. His arms were crossed sassily, lips downturned in a stern expression. An attitude that if you asked Renjun, was very at odds with the fluffy pink sweater he was wearing.

“Helps us focus!” Hyuck said brightly. “Hi, Sicheng.”

“Playboy by Exo helps you focus?” Sicheng ignored him. Hyuck pouted.

“Haechan’s choice, not mine. And you really are interrupting our discussion of the significance of the green light in the Great Gatsby, so.”

“It represents Gatsby’s intent to murder his annoying brother.” Sicheng deadpanned. Haechan “ahhh-ed” and hurriedly scribbled it down. “Now please turn it down. I have things to do as well.”

“Like what?” Renjun challenged, putting down his pencil and closing his book. Sicheng blinked, thrown off.

“Like, stuff. Like, none of your business stuff. What’s with you?”

“He’s been cranky all day,” Hyuck informed him. Renjun glared. Hyuck grinned back, unperturbed. Always a traitor.

“About what? Are you okay?” Sicheng’s annoyance switched to concern in an instant. He walked all the way into the room and closed the door behind him, all serious-like. Hyuck helpfully paused his playlist.

“It’s honestly nothing,” Renjun hurried, nervous now that all the concerned attention was directed at him. He leafed through his Gatsby notes in an attempt to appear nonchalant.

Sicheng looked doubtful, sitting down and staring at him in wait of a better answer. Renjun wracked his brain with what to respond with that would both appease his brother and not reveal too much. “I haven’t been sleeping well,” he decided on, still stacking and restacking his notes. “It’s not a big deal though,” he rushed, Sicheng still looking unconvinced.

“Is it because of finals? You know you’ll do great. You always do.” The way Sicheng could change his mood so quickly still threw Renjun off, and he’s known him his entire life. “It’s both impressive and unsettling,” Haechan had once observed after witnessing a particularly nasty fight and hasty makeup between Sicheng and Taeil. Renjun couldn’t help but agree.

“Yeah, it’s...I’m just stressed I guess,” Renjun shrugged. Sicheng rubbed his shoulder. Another one of Sicheng’s paradoxes: his discomfort when others touched him but his willingness to with Renjun. “You must be his most special person,” Hyuck had, once again, offered his unasked for words of wisdom. “Like, his exception to all his personal rules cause he loves you so much.” He had paused and then, “Hey, maybe if you ask him, he’ll give me a really long, thorough backrub-” Renjun had tackled him.

“Just remember to take care of yourself,” Sicheng instructed, concerned look still on his face. “Remember to eat enough. And don’t stay up too late. Finals are important, but your health matters most. And don’t spend too many hours inside because fresh air is needed from time to time-”

“Yes, yes, okay, got it,” Renjun interrupted, face turning red in embarrassment. Hyuck cackled next to him. “I’ll make sure I don’t die while I’m studying. But we really have to get back to preparing for this quiz tomorrow, so…”

“Okay, okay, I get it, brat,” Sicheng rolled his eyes, standing up. “Please make sure he doesn’t push himself too far, Hyuck.”

“Of course, Sichengie!” Hyuck rushed to his feet, ecstatic that Sicheng had finally graced him with his attention. “I’ll make sure he eats, and he sleeps, and all that essential for the human mind and body stuff. And each day we can meet up, and I’ll give you some updates, and we can have long talks about-”

Sicheng left and closed the door. Renjun grabbed a dejected Hyuck, forcing him to sit down again.

“You’re unbearable, you know that?”

“I can’t help it that your brother is the hottest man I’ve ever seen. Including celebrities. _Celebrities_, Renjun! Everyday is torture, seeing him so close, yet so far...Breaking my heart with each word-” Renjun grabbed him in a chokehold. Hyuck slapped the floor in surrender. Renjun hesitantly let him go.

After a few moments where Hyuck rubbed his arm and scowled, Renjun grabbed his notes, determined to keep studying. Hyuck snatched the papers away from him.

Before Renjun could shout his expletives, Hyuck looked at him, suddenly serious, gaze intently searching his own. It was enough to throw Renun into silence.

“So, I didn’t want to out you in front of your brother, ‘cause I’m a great friend. But I know for a fact that you aren’t worried about finals, considering they’re three weeks away and you’ve been preparing since the beginning of the year.” He paused and then asked softly, “So what’s really wrong?”

Renjun’s world slowed for a second in icy hot panic. His friend’s eyes were level and determined, eyebrows scrunched slightly in the same concern as Sicheng. For a second, Renjun considered actually telling him. It was unbearable keeping such a thing to himself, the constant fear paralyzing, the uncertainty and the foreboding unmoving no matter how much his logic battled it. The confession was there, right at the tip of his tongue, his heart threatening to burst at the thought of finally admitting it.

But then, almost as soon as it had come, his head cleared and his heart settled and he remembered how badly that would go. At the end of the day, he knew he couldn’t ever say it. At the end of the day, this secret was his burden alone to bear.

So in the meantime, he had to lie.

“Okay, okay. Finals aren’t bothering me. But I didn’t know how else to get Sicheng to back off. You know how he is.” Haechan raised his eyebrows, as if hurrying him to spit it out. Renjun’s head raced yet again with an explanation that would now appease Haechan. “I swear I really have been having trouble sleeping. I’ve been getting nightmares and sometimes, it’s...like, bad nightmares. But it’s only been happening for a few weeks, so...I’m sure it will pass eventually. There really isn’t a reason to worry.” Renjun forced a weak smile. He hoped he was convincing enough. Hyuck studied him, stare unblinking.

“You bottle too much up, Renjun. It’s why we worry about you so much when you get distant, or irritable, or sad. Because we know you’ll never tell us. I just want you to know it’s okay to.”

Renjun swallowed the guilt and nodded. Hyuck unpaused his playlist. They continued studying.

*****

Renjun and Sicheng didn’t exactly have the best childhood. They were always moving around, forced to settle and then uproot, never allowed the consistency and comfort a child deserved. Their mother could only sit still for a couple minutes. She attached herself and then discarded men like a song you love and listen to on repeat and repeat and repeat until it becomes boring and used out and ultimately, deleted off your favorite playlist.

They grew up in China with husband number 1, Sicheng’s dad. But their mother grew bored. She needed attention he was unwilling and unable to give, so like an outdated vehicle she traded the keys in for a new one. Husband number 2 was Renjun’s dad. He was, admittedly, worse than the first. Because as time went on, so did their mother’s standards. Call it desperation or resignation, Renjun still does not know. But she kept rooting in garbage and each time, ended up finding something more rotten than the last. Husband number 3 lived in South Korea, so they left everything they had ever known for him. He hit her and screamed at Renjun and Sicheng, but she did not leave him until he cheated. Husband number 4 lived in America.

Renjun hated America. At least in China, he was not so much of an outlier. He could do well in school and be just another student. Their school wore uniforms so he was not forced to agonize over which outfit drew the least amount of attention. Korea was hard at first, but not horribly -- he had grown up learning Korean because he lived in Jilin, a providence in Northeast China on the border of North Korea. The culture and food were definitely different in South Korea but he found himself able to scrape by just enough to not be considered a weird foreigner.

The American suburban midwest was not the same. Suddenly, he dressed too weird, slacks and a tucked in shirt drawing the attention of every macho middle schooler. He and Sicheng were one of only four Asians in the entire school; blending in was simply not an option, no matter how quiet he forced himself to be. He was called every racial slur imaginable, the homophobia rampant in a more direct way than he was used to, the negative attention unavoidable.

His only saving grace was schoolwork. He divulged all his energy into understanding English, studying becoming the only thing that grounded him. He saw his good grades as the only escape route to a better life, one far away from this town and this country and his mother with her long list of horrible men. At age 15, husband number 4 was out of the picture, and after a brief period in which his mother swore she was going to stay alone this time and never marry again, boyfriend 5 messaged her on facebook and they moved to New York.

New York was, admittedly, much better than small town Illinois had been. The student body was more diverse, the school larger, and having easier access to transportation allowed Sicheng and Renjun to escape home whenever the shouting and crying and slamming became louder than the music in their headphones. The crowds and the constant bustling made Renjun feel safe in its tendency to swallow him within it.

He was not happy, but he was not as unhappy as he had been. So he figured himself lucky and pretended he was content with keeping himself company. That changed when he met Hyuck his sophomore year of high school.

“You’re the smartest kid in here, so be my partner,” Hyuck had demanded, plopping himself down at the desk next to Renjun and spreading his books all over it. Renjun looked up and took one of his earbuds out, annoyed and confused at the sudden attention.

“Excuse me?”

“I said, we’re partners now. I was too busy with my very demanding, very exciting life to read the book this summer. So let’s begin and I’ll pretend to contribute.”

Renjun scoffed, inching away from him. The assholes always found him, somehow. But after years of being picked on and bullied, Renjun no longer knew the definition of holding back. He learned that being quiet did nothing to dissuade the negative attention, so why restrain himself? Scathing words eventually became as easy as breathing, savage directness Renjun’s way of survival. It was an effective way to distance himself from others and scare away most of the rest of them. “Look. I’m sorry that your idiocy makes you incapable of reading a 200 hundred page, fifth grade level book, and I’m sorry you have to lie about being busy to justify it to your own inflated sense of self, but I’d rather fail the damn class than help anyone who doesn’t deserve it. So go find someone else.”

Hyuck blinked, open-mouthed, watching Renjun wordlessly, and Renjun straightened in his seat, anticipating a punch or a growl or an angry retreat. What he did not expect, however, was the look of awe-struck amazement that lit up his face and an excited hand suddenly grasping his. “Oh my God. I think we’re soulmates. I’m not sure yet if it’s “I wanna make out and take you to meet my parents” or “I wanna be your best friend and also take you to meet my parents” kind of soulmate but I love you. Maybe romantically, maybe platonically. What’s your number?”

Renjun sputtered. The commotion was causing a few classmates to turn their heads. Thank God the teacher had left to retrieve a few missing copies for their assignment. “Um?” He asked, completely thrown off guard. Hyuck grinned.

“So good with words a second ago but not so much now, huh? Ah...So cute.” Hyuck finally let go of his hand to fan himself. Renjun pushed himself back in his chair, trying to get as much distance as possible between them.

“You’re fucking weird.” And then, remembering he had kind of hit on him, Renjun rushed to add, “And I’m not in any way interested.”

Hyuck sighed. “Figures. The cute ones are always so hard to get...But Lucky for you, I don’t give up that easy.” And because God in actuality hated Renjun, the teacher decided to come back at that exact moment, and Heachan grabbed his hand again and announced, “Mrs. Miller! Renjun and I are partners!”

After many long, stressful days of Renjun labeling Hyuck a freak and trying his hardest to run away from him in the hallways, something changed. Maybe it was working on the project for hours a week together or maybe it was just the way Hyuck’s bratty nature grew on you the more you were exposed to it (like asbestos), but they hesitantly became actual friends. Renjun started willingly going over to Hyuck’s apartment more than his own, and though he’s had casual friends before and he was extremely close with Sicheng, nothing could really compare to having a best friend. It stripped walls he never realized he had, allowed much of his tough exterior to melt into something like friendly banter. For once, he found himself living for more than mindless studying and constant plans of escaping.

But Renjun couldn’t help but feel there was a clock ticking underneath his feet. Whenever he’d go to bed and relax, whenever he would get up and shower, whenever he would walk to class, whenever he’d talk to Haechan about his day, whenever he’d eat dinner, it followed; a shadow in the light, eyes watching in the dark, tick tock, tick tock. It would tick tick tick until it was hard to sleep and he had to fight to function when he was awake. The noise began to follow him everywhere he went, during every second of every waking and sleeping moment.

But he was terrified to pull out the rug. He was scared of the day when he’d finally get sick of the noise and actually find its source. It could end up being the harmless clock he assured himself it was. Or it could be a bomb, blowing up everything he had tried so hard to put together.

*****

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Hyuck repeated over and over, hopping over his desk in an attempt to kiss Renjun on the cheeks. Renjun tried to hold back a grin while evading each fervoured attempt, pretending to be more annoyed than he was. He would never admit it but there was nothing better than seeing Hyuck’s excitement at getting another good grade. And he didn’t always hate the cuddling. But Haechan didn’t need to know that.

“Whatever. We both studied for it. You’ve got to stop thanking me every time you get an A.”

“I can’t help it. You’re like my nerdy little angel.” Renjun frowned, not liking that nickname one bit. “Before you, I was lost. Piles of homework fell on my poor head everyday. ‘Why me?’ I wondered...but to no avail. ‘I hate studying! I can’t do it, I won’t survive!” I would yell. Every night I cried. And then, like heaven answered my prayers, you fell from the clouds. I was blinded by your beautiful face, your gorgeous, sweet-smelling hair, but more than that...those amazingly small shoulders-”

“Are you done?” Renjun asked tiredly. “Besides, it wasn’t heaven who sent me. It was you, forcing yourself on me and making me your English partner before I could protest.”

“Semantics,” Hyuck shooed.

A melodic giggle in front of them interrupted. Renjun looked up, surprised to find Yeri standing there, smiling at them with blindingly white teeth. She was wearing a gold sequined dress with an expensive looking leather belt, short brown hair framing her face cutely. Everything about her screamed money and glamour. He almost didn’t notice the two envelopes she held between her perfectly manicured hands.

“Hey, guys. Sorry for interrupting. I’ve just got a few invitations here for you, but if you want to just ignore me and go back to your couple-quarreling, I’ll head out.” She giggled again. Renjun was a bit dazed she was speaking to them. Her grin was innocent enough. Maybe too innocent, he thought, eyes narrowing.

“And Renjun calls me a drama queen,” Hyuck rolled his eyes, but smiled and held out his hand.

“Invitations for what?” Renjun asked suspiciously. It wasn’t like Hyuck and him were losers, they just...weren’t popular. Especially not Kim Yerim popular. Her group wasn’t mean to them or anything. They just didn’t interact. The only person from Yeri’s group he could see wanting to invite them was Johnny, but even that was a stretch. They had just met Johnny high at a party a month ago (i.e., Hyuck met Johnny high at a party. Renjun was the uncomfortable chaperone) and ever since then they exchanged nods in the hallway and were overall very average high school acquaintances. Renjun couldn’t help but get an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach over their sudden interest in the two of them.

“They’re invitations for my birthday party this Saturday! Don’t tell me you didn’t know?” Yeri gasped. Renjun couldn’t tell if she was being playful or serious, so he just stared at her. She met his gaze, looking a bit uncomfortable. Haechan leaned over and snatched the envelopes from her hand before Renjun could protest.

“Of course we knew! We’ve been counting down the seconds, Yeri baby. Thanks so much for the invite. Mwah!” Hyuck winked and blew her a kiss but Renjun fake-grabbed it, pretending to then crush it in his hands. Yeri watched the exchange with wide eyes.

“O-okay, so, see you there then!” She giggled, albeit uneasily this time, and hurried away. Hyuck sighed as soon as she was out of the classroom.

“You couldn’t control your weird and violent nature for one second? That was Kim Yerim. KIM YERIM. Do you realize what would happen if she became our friend?”

“I dunno. Add one more person to our sad group of two?”

“First off, I take offense to that. You may be sad, but I’m lively and adorable. Secondly, I will enlighten what your puny brain cannot process.” Renjun flipped him off. Hyuck continued, unmoved. “If Yerim became our friend, we’d be IN. Think of the possibilities? We’d be rich and famous by association! I wouldn’t have to study another day in my life!”

“Okay. But until then, we have a class to get to, and the late bell just rung,” Renjun threw his backpack over his shoulders, kindly helping Hyuck shove his things into his own.

While rushing to class, and while writing down formulas in chemistry, and while walking to the subway after school, Renjun couldn’t help but wonder over and over: what would Kim Yerim get out of inviting them to her Upper-East-Manhattans-Only birthday party?

******

The question, it turned out, answered itself while he was headed to school the following day. He had his headphones in on the subway, mindlessly scrolling through Ariana’s twitter feed (something he would never admit to another living soul, thanks very much) when he heard someone saying his name. He didn’t dare look up and look for the source, years of being whispered about and taunted forcing him to pretend he hadn’t heard.

“Seriously? What if he just heard that?” Someone panicked. Said someone was standing across and to his left, holding onto the rails by the door, judging by how far away he sounded and by what Renjun could very vaguely see out of the corner of his eye. Renjun feigned ignorance, continuing to scroll through twitter. “Just because we’re speaking Korean doesn’t mean he can’t pick out his own name.”

“He’s wearing headphones,” Someone laughed, as if amused by the other’s distress. Renjun nearly rolled his eyes at their stupidity. Not only had they assumed he didn’t speak Korean, but they hadn’t thought of the possibility that he wasn’t listening to anything. “Just relax, Jeno.”

Renjun felt his blood freeze. Jeno. Lee Jeno. Part of Yeri’s clique and one of the most popular guys in his school.

It was almost disappointing. Renjun wouldn’t have picked Jeno, of all people, as the mean-spirited type. Of course, like with most of the popular kids at his school, Jeno at first intimidated Renjun so badly he didn’t dare look in his direction. He’d seen his modeling photos countless times. Not because he sought them out or anything. It was just an inevitable fact that if you attended SM High, you would end up seeing Jeno’s pictures one way or another. The girls would huddle together and swap them like Pokemon cards while the boys would ridicule enviously over their shoulders, or sometimes, even join in (like Haechan, much to Renjun’s torment). He had a nearly perfect face; a sharp jawline and a strong, straight nose, an attractive mole under his right eye. His inky black hair contrasted nicely with his light, clear skin, his body was built and masculine, and he looked just as good in pictures as he did in person. Renjun would’ve written him off as another emotionless, arrogant popular kid if it weren’t for his smile.

Because what most of his serious, stoic headshots did not include was his smile. It changed his face completely. His eyes would light up and smile in little cresents, kind and a bit endearingly dumb. Puppy-like. Weren’t people always saying that the eyes were the windows into the soul, or something like that? Renjun had always thought Jeno’s smile exposed his true character. Case in point being that one time Jeno had been in Renjun’s algebra class for a whole two hours. After going through the syllabus and beginning a few equations touched on last year, Jeno hesitantly raised his hand and asked if he was in biology. The whole room couldn’t stop laughing and the teacher got pissed, thinking he was joking, but he had shamefully stood up and actually left the class. Some people are still convinced he had it all planned out and did it to be funny, but Renjun had seen the genuine fear in those puppy-dumb eyes.

Anyways, the whole point was that the idea of Jeno being a character from Mean Girls just didn’t fit. Unless he was Karen.

There was a very long pause that stretched for a good few minutes. Renjun was beginning to lose interest, convinced that was all he was going to overhear from that conversation, until he heard a sing songy “Renjun, Renjun, Renjun, Renjun!”

“Seriously?!” Jeno complained. Renjun ignored every instinct within himself to just look up and glare at the whole thing. But he really, really needed to hear why they were talking about him.

“Just making sure he can’t hear us. You’re so cute when you’re embarrassed.” It was said in a way that was somehow light and playful while also sounding low and intimate. Renjun raised a mental eyebrow. Did Jeno have a boyfriend? Renjun couldn’t wrap his head around one of the popular kids being gay. Or bi. Or questioning? The whole possibility had Renjun’s mind reeling.

“Sh-shut up. Can we get back to what we were talking about, please? What if he doesn’t go?”

The question seemed to irritate the other boy. “Then I’ll walk over myself and invite him.”

“No, that won’t work. Trust me. You’ll either piss him off or scare him off.”

“What are you, a Renjun expert now? Should I be jealous?”

Renjun couldn’t hear the next part, Jeno becoming much quieter, and muttering something he couldn’t catch.

“Hmmm, okay,” Mystery boy sighed, answering whatever Jeno said. “It sucks, though. I wish we didn’t have to play this game of cat and mouse. I’d rather just approach him myself.”

“I know you would. I just really want this to work, you know?” Jeno’s voice sounded so soft. Renjun didn’t need to see to know his eyes were curved in cute little half-moons. Renjun felt like he was intruding, overhearing something meant to be intimate. He scrolled aggressively through his twitter feed.

“Trust me, I know.”

The rest of the conversation became much quieter, to the point where Renjun only picked up a few unintelligible words. He finally looked up from his phone when the subway screeched to a halt, shocked to find that he was already at his stop. Before the flood of people could wash his stalkers away, he mustered enough courage and tried to discreetly glance toward the doorway. To his horror, he met the eyes of someone already staring at him: Na Jaemin.

Renjun knew a lot more about Jeamin than he did Jeno, even though they’ve never had a single class together and he wouldn’t be able to pick his voice out from someone else. Jeamin was cast in the random commercial or two, none popular enough for Renjun to have seen it, but a commercial nonetheless, which apparently already made him better than most in the eyes of his peers. He was also stupidly attractive. Like Jeno, he had glowing skin and a perfect profile, but his features were a little softer. He had a smaller nose and a fuller, less angular face. But whereas Jeno’s smile was endearingly cute, Jeamin’s was intense - somehow managing to be flirty and seductive and charming, all at once. His eyes were always dancing in amusement, lips always upturned in a smirk. He seemed the epitome of the cocky, annoying, smart-ass popular kid Renjun desperately wanted to avoid.

To top off the whole Ouran-esque Tamaki image, Jaemin was also filthy rich. His parents owned hotels all around the world, making enough money to own three separate mansions: one in New York, one in Seoul, and one in some undisclosed location that remains a hotly debated topic at SM High. All of it was gossip that Renjun had no particular interest in. Something that did catch his interest, though, was the overwhelming amount of times he had caught Jaemin staring at him.

At first, he was a freshman, convinced he was being scoped out as a target. He had given a little glare back, a bluff at being tough, and then hurried away to his next class. It would continue a few more times after that, Renjun increasingly more and more confused after each occurence. Once, he was at lunch and almost dropped his gross school taco midbite, Jaemin’s eyes boring into his from the other side of the cafeteria. Hyuck had punched his back as he coughed, the embarrassment swallowing enough of him to make up for the ground beef caught in his throat. And still, Jaemin continued staring from the other side, mouth curved in a self-satisfied smirk. Renjun swore it was some diabolical plot Jeamin had crafted in order to mortify him at every opportunity.

The stare was just as intense this time. Jaemin had the ability to make you feel like you were the only person he ever saw, ever thought about, ever wanted in one look - whether that was true or just a facade was up to interpretation. It was enough to make Renjun’s stomach drop in shock (and, unfortunately, overwhelming sparks of attraction and arousal, which he will not acknowledge, thanks) and leave him, once again, frustrated and confused at why he was the center of it. He darted his gaze away just like every other time, pushing people past to walk out the opposite entrance, earning a few dirty looks and shoves. Better than facing Jeno and Jeamin, though.

The conversation he overheard haunted his thoughts as he rushed to school, his nervous energy forcing his body to move quickly even though he was twenty minutes early and had been planning on grabbing tea before his first class. He knew there was a reason for Jaemin’s weird looks. It looked like he finally thought of some way to get at Renjun. For some reason, he had Yeri invite him to her party. He didn’t know what Jaemin’s plan was and what would happen once he got there, but Renjun knew it couldn’t be good.

The worst part was that there was no way Hyuck wouldn’t go, and there was no way he was allowing Hyuck to go on his own, especially now that he knew there was some nefarious intent behind it. He didn’t really want to share the information with his best friend, because he would take it all the wrong way, as usual, but he saw no other option.

He waited to tell him until after school, while they were at Hyuck’s apartment, studying with Genie by Girls Generation playing in the background. Haechan listened and then sighed, turning the song off and getting up off his back to sit criss cross so they were facing one another.

“This is the same Jaemin that’s wanted to get in your pants since freshman year?”

“He’s not - I mean he hasn’t - ugh. I hate that you keep saying that,” Renjun stuttered, flushing red at the thought, trying to swallow away the images that statement conjured. Jaemin finally striding across the hallway and forcing himself into his space, pushing his back into the lockers, smirk on his lips as his hands went from grasping his shoulders to his hips, touch soft but his lips harsh and oh my God they were finally kissing and-

Hyuck gave him an unimpressed look, as if reading his thoughts. Renjun hurriedly pushed away that very embarrassing fanfiction that had just played out for him in his traitorous mind. “Right. So I know you have this wild conspiracy theory that bedroom eyes equates to a wild plot to, what? Catch you off guard so that you choke on another taco? But for those of us with sense, his staring is seen for what it is. He wants that cute little ass. And it truly is a very cute, very little ass.”

“Fuck off,” Renjun choked, willing his irritation to take over so his blush could please recede and stop betrying him. “I knew you’d say this. But fine. If that’s really the case, then why was he being all boyfriend-y with Jeno? It just proves this isn’t some plot to get with me, but to get at me, like I’ve been saying since freshman year!”

“Ever heard of friends with benefits? Or open relationships? Oh, what am I saying. This is you I’m talking to.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Renjun bristled, actually pissed this time. He might get irritated with Hyuck sometimes, but most of their banter was just that - banter. Their back and forth, love/hate relationship was just part of how they worked. They got along so well because they were so alike: both a bit too blunt, a bit too quick-witted, and a bit too unwilling to let things go. Unfortunately, the traits that made them work so well also made them clash heads, so when they really did get in an argument, it never ended well.

It looked like right now was going to be another one of those times. Hyuck didn’t back down, giving Renjun an irritated look, arms crossed.

“It means that you never let anyone in. I know for a fact you’ve never had a boyfriend, or slept with anyone, which would be fine if I knew you didn’t want any of those things. But you do. And you can’t keep making up all these crazy excuses so that you can keep lying to yourself about it.”

The comment burned because it was true, Renjun nearly frozen with the amount of emotions that statement made him feel. He felt the sting of tears at the back of his eyes. A look of regret flashed across Hyuck’s face, but the damage had been done. And because Renjun couldn’t properly express feelings with anything other than anger, he lashed out.

“Really? You’re judging me and trying to give me relationship advice? At least I’m not in love with someone who will never love me back!”

Renjun didn’t know who was more surprised by that outburst: himself or Hyuck. He was mortified at himself as soon as the words were out, wishing he could swallow them back or go back in time. His tears spilled over and everything was blurry, but he could still see Haechan’s face turn completely cold. The room was so silent Renjun could hear someone’s TV from the room over.

Without a word Hyuck got up and opened the door, holding it there, a very clear “get out”. Renjun stumbled to his feet, overwhelmed with guilt and fear and anger. Before he headed down the stairs, he heard Hyuck’s door slam, the noise shaking Renjun so badly he nearly slipped down the steps in his haste to get away.

The doom lurking deep in his stomach crept upwards, it’s fingers pushing against his insides. Icy panic threatened to overtake his lungs, breathing becoming difficult, vomit beginning to rise. He somehow managed to get all the way home before stumbling to his room. It took twenty minutes for his breath to be completely even, hands shaking.

When he finally looked up, his desk chair was split down the middle, cracked wood sharp like jagged teeth. His eyes focused on it, horrified, almost unable to tear his gaze away and inspect the rest of the room. Grow up, he screamed at himself. Grow up and look. After a few minutes of forcing his breath to even, in and out, in and out, he did.

All of the art he had worked on over the course of years and years had been ripped and torn off his walls, strands of his drawings shredded into tiny pieces on the floor. His art supplies, the ones he kept neat and organized in his drawer, were in one large pile. Every single colored pencil, every single oil pastel, every single chalk pastel, even construction paper - all of it broken in half and completely decimated.

But worst of all, his moomin plushie, the one Sicheng had gifted him for his eighth birthday, adorable gap-toothed grin demanding he wake up quick, he had saved up all his birthday and christmas money for Renjun’s own, one of the only things he’d kept after every single move, had been stabbed with a pair of scissors, the blades violently stuck into his closet door. It’s maimed body was facing him, bright blue eyes trained on his. Watching.

Renjun finally stopped fighting it and let the sobs drown him completely.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings for child abuse, (verbal and physical), underage drinking, and sexual content  
tags are updated!

Renjun hated that he was at this party.

He had avoided Hyuck all of Wednesday, having learned the hard way that he needed a good 24 hours of space whenever they would fight. “I need time to reflect and write down all of my feelings and construct a speech which I will then memorize,” Hyuck had yelled. It was a day after their first fight, and Hyuck then slammed the door in Renjun’s face, leaving him standing there in bewilderment, because what? A speech? After a few minutes passed and Hyuck did not come back out to elaborate further he sighed and walked away, accepting of his fate. It was the fight the two of them referred to as The One Where Renjun Called Hyuck’s Dancing Annoying and Nothing Like Michael Jackson.

This fight was a bit more serious. His plan was to approach Hyuck before his first class on Thursday, suck up his pride and his nerves and apologize, maybe buy him a bouquet of sunflowers and take him out for pork belly after school. He bought the flowers and he crept near the end of the hallway at exactly two minutes before class started (Hyuck always did everything last minute). But when he saw him at his locker, shoving his books in with a blank expression, Renjun couldn’t stop seeing the image of his face turning completely cold and the empty way he had opened the door for him to leave. Renjun clutched the flowers to his chest and ran in the opposite direction without thinking about it, ashamed and sick with self loathing once his heart stopped beating so fast and he collected his breath. He shoved the flowers in his own locker and trudged to class, not even caring that he was five minutes late. Could he not even apologize to his best friend?

_Grow up_, he said to himself over and over. But it wasn’t his own voice. It was his dad, looking down in disgust, Renjun’s ice cream cone in a rainbow puddle at his feet. _Grow up, Renjun. Are you really crying over something that stupid?_

So Renjun said nothing. And here he was, in the neighborhood of Tribeca in Manhattan, staring up at 56 Leonard. Of course Yeri would live in a penthouse. And of course it would be some gravity-defying, jenga-looking montage of houses stacked on top of one another. He almost turned around, almost lost himself in the cacophony of cars honking and passerbys laughing and lights so loud they encompassed everything else. He could be just another kid disappearing into all of it. But then he saw Haechan in his mind again, this time with tears spilling out, the butt of some idiotic joke Jaemin and Jeno were behind. It was enough to launch him inside, nearly sprinting so he wouldn’t be able to change his mind.

The security guard was alarmed at his speed, probably thinking he was looking to crash the party. Or maybe mug him. Before he could be pushed out or tackled he held up the invitation, gold and glittery and extravagant, unavoidably Yeri’s. Renjun was sure he looked the exact opposite in his cuffed jeans, white and navy striped shirt and a very ordinary, darker blue jacket pulled over it. (In his defence, he almost thought about wearing the black skinny jeans and grey sweatshirt he had worn to school, but figured he should at least try to look presentable). He could tell his outfit was still not enough by the unimpressed once over he received. Nevertheless, he was escorted inside.

Nothing could compare him for actually stepping inside Yeri’s penthouse. It was an entirely different world. He wanted to run away but the door slammed shut behind him. He stood immobile while the room screamed in color and noise around him. A trapped animal in a glittering, glass cage.

This glass cage was decadent. The floors were shiny and marble, chandeliers golden, the staircase winding. There was even a grand piano and wall filled with hundreds upon hundreds of books in a little corner by an honest to God hot tub. It would all be very Blair Waldorf if it weren’t for the makeshift neon lights and thumping bass, a weird mix of elegant meets teenage club. There was a dance floor with a DJ sitting at the front, people bouncing up and down to the music. One guy was even twerking. Renjun recognized the song that was playing as My Type by Saweetie (only because it was once Hyuck’s Favorite Song of The Week, one he had kept trying to put it on replay as they studied). The sound overwhelmed the largest amount of space Renjun had ever seen in New York. The furniture was minimal so the room was very open, but all of the bodies encompassed the entirety of it, leaving very little room. Renjun felt like a sardine in a packed can of caviar. If caviar was ever canned. What kind of package did it come in? Renjun didn’t know.

He just had to find Hyuck and drag him outside, apologize, maybe hug because Hyuck was a sucker for reciprocated skinship, go back to his apartment, play Overwatch, apologize again and order whatever food Hyuck wanted. He accidentally spotted Yeri while he frantically pushed his way through the bodies. She was in a group near the staircase, all of them nearly falling over in laughter while she watched them in smug satisfaction. He couldn’t imagine what she said to cause that reaction.

Renjun stared for a few seconds too long, reminded that Yeri was absolutely stunning. She was wearing a black velvet, off shoulder top with a matching velvet skirt. Her silver necklace and hooped earrings offset the black nicely, and her hair was pulled up in a ponytail. It would’ve been a very cute and elegant look if it weren’t for the fishnets, knee-high boots, and the chain wrapped twice around the skirt. It gave her image a surprising edge, one completely different than the one she portrayed at school, and as she caught Renjun’s eye and hurried over, he realized he didn’t actually know Kim Yerim at all.

“Renjun! I’m so glad you came! I didn’t think…” She gave him a once over, as if losing her train of thought. “Oh boy. You’ve never been to one of these, have you?”

“‘One of these,’ meaning a rich kid party?” Renjun snapped himself out of the staring and swallowed the embarrassment, lifting his chin up in a show of mock annoyance. What should he say? He did not want to engage in small talk. He just wanted to find Hyuck and get out of here. “Sorry, I didn’t think I’d be judged so harshly by something as stupid as my wardrobe.”

She did a double take, glittery eyes fluttering in surprise. “Oh, jeez. Jeno was right. You really don’t like us at all, do you?”

Jeno? Renjun frowned. Why would Jeno say that?

“Anyway,” Yeri said, before Renjun could ask, “To answer your question: yes, it’s obvious.” She giggled. He went to walk away but she grabbed his shoulder in apology, smile bright with amusement. “Sorry, Sorry! I didn’t mean to sound judgemental. I could care less what anyone wears. I was just surprised. It’s actually kind of cute that you didn’t think to dress up at all.”

She grabbed his other shoulder, caging him in, and Renjun stepped back, completely thrown off. He was about to express how unhappy he was with all of this touching when she reached up and squished his cheeks together.

“You are so adorable! Oh my God. Your cheeks and your cute little angry pout and - okay, you look like you want to kill me. Listen, I have a whole bunch of different kinds of drinks here and, oh my God. I know just the one to give you!”

She grabbed his hand and pulled him along before he could even answer. What the hell is going on? He wondered. This was not going according to plan. He should ask her if she had seen Hyuck anywhere. He opened his mouth to do so when she shoved a drink in his hand.

“Um, no.” He lurched away, immediately holding out the drink for her to take back. It sloshed worryingly with the movement and he stood still to calm it. She grinned and made no attempt to take it back from him. “I don’t drink. And I really need to find-”

“Hyuck, right?” She said proudly, literally giving herself a pat on the back. Renjun watched in slight disgust. “I know where he is. Too bad I won’t tell you until you drink this.”

“What?” He asked, staring at the suspicious, bright red drink in his hand. He brought it to his nose and sniffed it warily. It smelled like fruit and death. “That’s like...nonconsensual alcohol consumption. And it’s probably a crime. Somewhere.”

“Oh no, I hope I don’t get arrested.” Yeri rolled her eyes. Renjun considered spilling the drink on her. “I just want you to loosen up a bit! And I know you’ll bail once you find Hyuck. So drink with me!”

Renjun wanted to ask why she thought she suddenly knew him so well. Even though she was right. She crossed her arms and mimicked taking a sip, not budging. God dammit.

“You’ll leave me alone and help me find Hyuck once I drink this?” Renjun gritted his teeth.

She nodded and jumped up and down excitedly. “Totally! Now tick tock. He might be in a different place if you take too long. And I can’t guarantee that I’ll be able to find him.”

For Haechan, Renjun told himself, clutching the drink in his hand and downing it in one go. It wasn’t the worst concoction of alcohol he’s ever had. Still tasted exactly like fruit and death. But somehow, bearable. Yeri clapped and cheered while he did it, garnering the attention of far too many people. Renjun flushed bright red and handed her the cup, coughing a little as the last of it went down a little too quickly.

“Are you happy now? Where is he?”

“Impressive, Renjun! If I didn’t already have a girlfriend, I think I’d fall in love a little bit.”

Renjun chose to ignore that. “Tick tock, as you said. Where is he?”

“So blunt. So direct. You’re no fun,” She sighed, but her eyes were sparkling. “Alright, follow me, angel.”

He chose to ignore that as well, allowing her to grab his hand once again. Everyone parted for her; she was Moses and the party-goers, the Red Sea. He thought he heard someone mutter, “What a Goddess,” as they walked past. She led him down a staircase, through a hallway with plastic cups littered all over the floor, and Renjun was not surprised when she opened a door and Johnny, Hyuck, and a bunch of randoms were sitting in a circle, passing around a bong. The room smelled overwhelmingly of weed and sweat. Renjun wrinkled his nose.

As soon as Hyuck saw him he darted his gaze away, ignoring him. Renjun felt a stab at his heart. Hyuck leaned over and fell onto the guy who was about to take a hit, earning a few unhappy grunts from the people he was sprawled over.

“Give me that. I can’t be sober to have this conversation.”

“Hyuckie,” Renjun said, suddenly overcome with emotion. Hyuck froze and looked over, finally meeting his eyes.

Renjun didn’t even care that the entire room was watching the exchange. He couldn’t lose him, he thought over and over. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. He felt the beginnings of desperate panic. He had to salvage this. He had to be open and honest.

“I am so so sorry,” He choked. His eyes burned. His words spilled all over the room. He couldn’t pick them back up, even if he wanted to. “I didn’t mean it. I don’t know why I said it I - it was wrong and you didn’t deserve it. I know you only said what you did because you care about me. And I’m an idiot and I - I didn’t know how to react. I was going to apologize sooner but I’m a coward. I don’t know what I would do if I lost you. I can’t ever apologize enough. I’m-”

“Jun,” Hyuck interrupted. His eyes looked watery. It seemed they were both on the brink of a very chaotic display of water works. “Don’t say that about yourself. You are none of those things.” He swallowed and stood up, blinking furiously. “And don’t ever think you could lose me, idiot!” Renjun didn’t bother saying that he’d just contradicted his previous statement by calling him that, too overcome with a growing warmth in his chest. “You’re my best friend, asshole. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

“Gay,” he heard someone mutter as Hyuck hurried over and tackled him in a hug. Yeri hissed a “shut the fuck up, Ten.” The room descended into silence, Hyuck’s sniffles the only sound as he crushed Renjun like he wanted to both kill and love him.

“Okay,” Hyuck wiped his eyes and leaned back after Renjun hesitantly let him smother his cheeks in kisses. The things he allowed for friendship. And Hyuck was, after all, still his friend. A wave of overwhelming relief and adoration nearly swallowed him whole. “You are officially forgiven. Time to party now.”

The room began chattering again and Yeri took a seat next to Johnny, giving the two of them their space. He glanced over at the noise and she smiled toothily, shooting him an exuberant thumbs up. He smiled back beside himself. She was annoying but undeniably warmhearted, reminding him of a certain someone that was currently squeezing him again like a very loving boa constrictor, whining not to ignore him. He decided that she was probably an unfortunate third party in all of this; she must not know anything about Jeno and Jaemin’s reasons for inviting him to the party. And then what Hyuck said finally clicked in his brain. The party. Time to party. Renjun tried to step out of his arms but to no avail.

“We are not partying, Hyuck. Remember what I told you? We have to get out of here quickly. I haven’t seen them yet but I know-”

“Enough with that ridiculous theory!” Hyuck demanded, releasing him, stomping his foot like a child. “Consider staying at this party a way of making up with me.” Renjun wanted to point out that Hyuck said he was already forgiven, but didn’t dare. He was not going to test Haechan’s patience; he’d lucked out when his apology was accepted. He was not going to jeopardize it. In the end, Hyuck was more important to him than whatever Jeno and Jaemin could possibly do to him. “Now, where’s the alcohol? I can smell it on you.”

So once again, Renjun was dragged upstairs, the party still raging in full force. This time, the music was some kind of remix of the song Dangerous by Big Data. Hyuck squealed in excitement, leading Renjun to the middle of the dance floor. Renjun recoiled in panic.

“Oh God, no, Hyuck you know I hate-”

“What? I can’t hear you! The music’s too loud!” Hyuck grinned cheekily. Asshole.

“If I can hear you, you can hear me!” Renjun yelled back.

Hyuck motioned to his ear and shook his head. Renjun sobbed in defeat inside his head.  
“Fine, fine! I’ll dance but first, I need to drink more,” Renjun relented. Magically, Hyuck regained his sense of sound, and he clapped his hands in joy.

“Oh my God, seriously! I’m so happy! But I don’t know where the drinks are-”

Renjun grabbed him before he could finish, leading him to the area where Yeri had force fed him the evil concoction of spirits. He grabbed two plastic cups, filling them with several ladles of the bright red bunch.

“Bottoms up!” A thrilled Hyuck bellowed. Renjun followed suit.

After another full cup, Renjun felt pleasantly tingly, his head light, the party suddenly much more manageable. Both of them went back to the middle of the dance floor, some upbeat rap song that repeated “backing it up” over and over booming over the speakers. It was doing a great job at hyping up all the dancers around them. Hyuck grabbed his hips, standing behind him and giggling, grinding on him in this little show he always did whenever Renjun was dragged to a party. Renjun didn’t mind it. He would whine about it and fake disinterest, but the truth was, Renjun actually enjoyed dancing. He didn’t feel comfortable doing it sober, always too anxious and aware of the people around him, worried about the eyes and the whisperings and the Oh my God am I being embarrassing? But after a bit of alcohol the eyes faded away and it was just him and the music, Hyuck a sort of anchor behind him. Well, that was a poor choice of words. An anchor in a metaphorical way, not literally. There was no hard anchoring back there. Oh God. Renjun chased away that line of thought, falling further back into Hyuck and rolling back his hips.

Hyuck’s hands gripped his waist, his chin hooked over his shoulder, the alcohol swimming pleasantly in his veins, both of them grinding in beat to the music. Renjun laughed uncontrollably when Hyuck leaned close to his ear, pointing out a dude so drunk he fell sloppily onto the girl he was trying to grope. She leaned back unhappily, mood apparently ruined as she stomped away. He was about to make a snide remark about the guy’s dumbfounded expression when he felt eyes on him.

He shouldn’t have been surprised to see Jeno and Jaemin a few feet away from them. They were grinding too, and the sight had Renjun’s stomach swooping, his breath catching in his throat. He forgot to think logically. He forgot that they invited him here with maniacal intent. He was so distracted. He wished he could blame it on the alcohol, but he knew that wasn’t it. Renjun didn’t have a chance.

They were shiny with sweat, Jeno’s inky black hair stuck to his face, Jaemin’s ash brown not faring any better. And their outfits - Renjun gulped, eyes stuck on their bodies like a man starving.

Jaemin was wearing black slacks, a white shirt with an expensive, sleek tie, the pattern some edgy mix of polka dots and stripes, a studded belt wrapped around his waist. But the worst part was the black harness that fit snug against his chest, criss-croosed, looking reminiscent of something Renjun would really rather not think about. And Jeno’s - they wore almost matching suits, but Jeno’s wrapped closer to his waist, the two straps running vertically up his shoulders.

Renjun didn’t know if it was intentional, but the matching suits, the harnesses - it was erotic. He was transfixed, and then remembering where he was, his eyes darted up, and they were both watching him, Jaemin leaning over Jeno’s shoulder as he grinded on him in the same position as Hyuck, smug, his eyes mirroring the want and hunger Renjun felt deep in his gut. He was scared to look but he had to and - Jeno was staring too, the two boys matching, gaze unmoving, eyes dark. And as if the situation couldn’t get any more out of hand, Renjun realized in half disbelief, half desperate longing that Jeno was hard.

Renjun grinded back on Hyuck, a wave of something he didn’t even know he had in him possessing his entire body. It felt a lot like excitement, trepidation, and there was this intense need to please, to be good enough, to be so desirable it drove the two of them crazy. He threw his head back, exposing his throat, and Hyuck laughed in glee, gripping his hips tighter.

Before he could drag it out, really start grinding back into Hyuck, his friend turned him around, grinning from ear to ear in unadulterated amusement. “Naughty, Renjun. I’m guessing you noticed Lustful One and Lustful Two over there.”

Renjun gulped guiltily, opening his mouth to disagree when Hyuck dragged him closer. Renjun yelped, throwing up his hands in an effort to push him back. But he was too late.

“Oh, and you’re hard! Good for you, Renjun. I’m actually kind of proud.”

“Oh - oh my God! Can you shut up?” Renjun hissed, looking around anxiously. It didn’t seem like anyone heard, or if they had, they didn’t care, too preoccupied by their own dancing and grinding. “Are you satisfied with the amount of dancing yet? It’s getting late.”

Hyuck sighed, still amused, but he nodded, giving in. “Fine, fine. Only because I know you won’t do anything else to steam up this situation further. You are so boring, I swear-”

“Renjun?” Someone asked, standing behind him, and Renjun froze, staring into Hyuck’s eyes in dismay. He knew that voice.

Haechan stared back at him, also caught off guard, but then in an instant he turned Renjun around, forcing Renjun to now face Jaemin and Jeno.

Jaemin’s arm was draped around Jeno, too close, too tightly, hair ruffled, pupils blown wide. Renjun gulped.

“I’m so glad you ended up coming,” Jeno interrupted the charged silence, expression a mixture of dazed and pleased. How he managed to be both overwhelmingly hot and adorable was beyond Renjun. He finally got to see that eye smile up close. It was dizzying. Renjun opened his mouth to respond, but for once, he was speechless, his mind blank. Hyuck shoved him and he snapped out of it.

“I’m, um,” He flustered, shaking his head, trying to gain back some sort of control over the situation. “I didn’t come for you.”

Jeno’s face dropped, smile wiped clean. He looked like a kicked puppy. Renjun ignored the way it made his stomach drop, a surge of regret punching him in the gut. But he maintained his mask of indifference, standing up straight. He had almost forgotten why he had been invited in the first place. He couldn’t lose sight of that, couldn’t let them seduce him in whatever fucked up plan they had for him, couldn’t forget that they had no real desire for him. It was all a show. And Renjun was anything but easily manipulated.

“What he means is,” Hyuck interrupted, clearing his throat in an attempt to turn around the awkward atmosphere, “We were invited by Yeri, so we came for her birthday, of course. But it’s a nice surprise to see you guys here!” He laughed in a forced attempt at nonchalance. Renjun cringed.

“We were actually just about to leave,” Renjun hurried, avoiding their eyes. It was all too intense for him. “So we’re going to just-”

“Renjun,” Jaemin interrupted. Renjun looked up automatically. Jeamin slowly looked him up and down, shameless. Renjun nearly gasped. “You look beautiful.”

“I’m wearing what I always wear,” He said without thinking, his heart beating out of his chest. Jaemin smiled, amused.

“Exactly,” he replied, smoothly. Renjun was once again speechless.

“Renjun was just saying the same about you!” Hyuck chirped. He could almost feel Hyuck thrumming in excitement next to him. Mortification threatened to burn him into ashes.

“I did not!” Renjun denied furiously, face so hot it probably resembled Bob from Veggie Tales.

“You did too!”

“I did not, you-”

“Well, we really were about to leave,” Hyuck cut him off, grinning in faux apology. “We’ll see you at school on Monday!”

Before Renjun could say anything further he was dragged away (for the millionth time that night. Like seriously, what was he? A ragdoll?) Hyuck nearly skipping in self-satisfaction.

“I should kill you,” Renjun said once they were outside, the crisp air sobering him. He wanted to tear his hair out and also run in front of the nearest vehicle. And take Hyuck with him when he did it. Two birds one stone.

“You always say that yet here I am, very much alive. You’re welcome by the way.”

“I can’t believe you’re saying ‘you’re welcome.’ There is no reason to thank you. I am not in any way thankful right now. Do I look at all thankful?”

“Woah there! Don’t get so heated. You may not realize it now, but I just did you a very big favor. God, I’m almost jealous. Like, two of the hottest guys in our school want to fuck you. Not that I can blame them. You are very fuckable.”

“Don’t ever say that combination of words ever again,” Renjun warned. Hyuck giggled, waving him off. Renjun sighed. He knew Hyuck would never stop talking about the entire thing if he didn’t distract him. And honestly, he needed something to distract himself. He couldn’t stop thinking about them, the arousal threatening to bubble again, and the confusion and...and what the hell even was that? But worst of all was the crushing disappointment, the realization that none of it was real, and even if it was, that it was an ulterior motive of some sort, some plot to embarrass him- “What time is it? Wanna stop at a diner and eat?”

Hyuck ‘yessed’ emphatically. Renjun tried to smile back. He hoped a cheap burger would be enough to fill the empty feeling in his stomach.

Hyuck was naive. Jeno and Jaemin were so far from his world, so far out of his league, so many other adjectives and reasons that it would never work. It wasn’t real.

The doom inside him stirred, ever present, a reminder. They walked to the diner, and Renjun was thankful that it was New York and that there was always light, because the stars were hidden behind the clouds.

*****

“There’s a monster in my room,” Renjun whispered, shaking his mother awake. His dad grumbled sleepily besides her. “Mommy. There’s a monster.”

“Go to sleep, Renjun,” She said. He climbed into the bed with her. He sighed in relief as soon as he felt the warmth of her body, comforted, the trembling in his body quieting.

“I can’t sleep in there. I saw-”

“You have to be very quiet, sweetie,” His mom interrupted, almost frantically, looking suddenly awake. Renjun stopped talking, scared at the vehemence in her tone. “You can’t stay here too long. I’m going to wake you up before school. Here, sleep on this side.”

She scooched over towards his father so there was a bit of space on her right. Renjun snuggled into the covers hurriedly. But he must have made too much noise, or maybe he moved too much, because the next thing he knew, his dad stirred awake.

“What is - Renjun?” He asked, sitting up. His mother froze next to him. Renjun froze too. “What the hell are you doing in here?”

“I -” Renjun squeaked, and then he thought about being forced back into his room, the monster eating him alive, and he mustered up enough courage to respond. “There - there is something in my room, daddy. It pulled my blanket off of me and-”

“What?” He asked sharply, rubbing his eyes. “Are you two, Renjun? Are you a baby? You are five years old. Get out of our bed and go to your room. You’re being ridiculous.”

Renjun started to panic. He could not go back in his room. Sicheng was at his friend’s house so he was in his bunk bed alone. Sicheng could not protect him from the monsters. He felt his breathing quicken out of his control.

“I will be very quiet, I swear. I won’t wake you up. Please daddy, the monster-”

“There is no monster!” His dad thundered, sitting all the way up in the bed now. His mom did not make a move, lying motionless next to him. Renjun clung onto her in sudden desperation.

“There is, there is, there is! It takes my covers and it moves my glass of water and it turns off my night light-”

His dad stood up, infuriated, stomping over to Renjun before he understood what was happening, yanking him off of his mother and onto the floor with such force he thought his arm would pop out. Renjun wailed.

“Don’t ever come in here again to sleep, do you understand me?” He shook him back and forth, Renjun’s head bobbing with it. “Stand up right now Renjun!”

Renjun forced his legs to steady, unable to see anything past the sobs that engulfed him. He felt snot run down his chin.

His dad finally pushed him out of his excruciating hold and he sprinted to his bedroom faster than he had sprinted out of it, falling over and then hurrying back up, terrified his dad would see him on the ground and yell at him to stand up again.

He couldn’t sleep that night. The covers didn’t move again. But even if they had, he didn’t have anywhere to run to. There was a monster in his room. And there was another in his mother’s.

****

Renjun jolted awake in a puddle of his own sweat, limbs trembling uncontrollably, heart beating so furiously he felt it in his throat. In and out, in and out, he calmed himself, lying back down, staring at the slow rotation of his ceiling fan. His heart wouldn’t stop. After a few minutes he grabbed his phone with shaky fingers. 3AM.

He almost fell back asleep. He breathed again. In and out, in and out. It was just a nightmare, just a flashback. His eyes closed and he nodded off. But it was transient. An image of his father suddenly jerked him awake. It was just a memory. Just a nightmare. He pushed it down. His heart settled again. He was in that hazy half-asleep, half-awake phase. He was so close.

He heard his window fly open.

It felt like someone just poured ice water over his entire body. He was afraid to sit up. He was afraid to look. The fear gripped his throat. He clutched his phone in his hand like a lifeline. He wanted to hide with it under his covers, maybe call Hyuck, maybe listen to music and pretend he was somewhere else. But he couldn’t hide. Even if he did, it would still be there. So he put down his phone. He sat up. He ignored every single instinct that was screaming at him to stop. He turned on his lamp.

His room was small. It could barely contain his minimal amount of furniture. He had a tiny dresser, so the rest of his clothes were pushed in neat piles under his bed. There was his desk, missing his chair, the one he had gotten rid of, sneaking outside late at night and throwing it in the dumpster, telling Sicheng the legs had snapped when he asked where it was. There were his empty walls where the drawings had been ruined. There was his moomin plushie he had sewn back together and hidden in between a pile of jeans under his bed, hoping that hiding it there would be enough to save it next time. Because he knew there would be a next time. There was always, always a next time.

The window slammed closed again. He saw it happen. He wished he could blame it on the wind. His desk drawers were next, wrenching open, the squeak of it nails on a chalkboard, blood pounding in his ears. The drawers shut themselves. Everything stopped. The room was eerily quiet. There was nothing concrete to prove it happened this time, no shreds of paper, no cracked furniture. Nothing to prove that it wasn’t all in his head.

He didn’t even scream. As quietly as possible he slid out of his bed on legs made of noodles, floorboards creaking under his feet as he made his way down the hallway. He tried his hardest to open the door without too much noise. The blinds were open, and there was just enough light to illuminate Sicheng’s sleeping face.

He slid into the bed. Sicheng grumbled in sleep but he was pliant when Renjun carefully nudged him over. Renjun shook like a leaf. He tried not to wake Sicheng. But he must have made too much noise, or maybe he moved too much, because the next thing he knew, he stirred awake.

“Junnie?” Sicheng whispered, turning his face toward him. Renjun stared back, horrified he woke him up.

“I’m sorry.” His voice shook. He hoped he didn’t notice. His bones trembled. “Go back to sleep.”

“Are you okay?” Sicheng asked, pulling the blanket up so that it covered the both of them.

Renjun doesn’t know what did it, what finally cracked the barrier. Maybe it was the soft tone Sicheng used when he said his name. Maybe it was the way he covered him with the blanket without thinking, worried he was shaking from the cold, even half asleep. Maybe it was the stress and the memories and that costernation, that tormented realization that whatever had happened as a kid was back, whatever had haunted him in his dreams and his waking moments, the things he tried so hard to hold back and bury and bear alone for months were slithering out from the darkness of his own head. Renjun had turned on the lamp and he couldn’t turn it back off. The dam broke.

And when the dam broke, there was nothing there to stop it. The crying wouldn’t stop. Suddenly, he was five again, and he was so terrified he couldn’t even think. It engulfed him completely. It would not stop. It would not stop. Sicheng sat him up, carefully, pulling him into his arms, rubbing his back. “Shhhh, Junnie. It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Renjun sobbed, hiding his face in Sicheng’s shoulder. Sicheng hugged him tighter, muttering consoling words, pushing back his hair.

“Tell me what’s going on. Please, Renjun. Tell me what’s going on.”

So Renjun did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. I’m so shocked by the feedback this fic has gotten! I know 70 kudos may not seem like a lot to some people, but I honestly didn’t expect my writing to get much attention at all, so I’m just so thankful for you all! and I’m especially thankful to those of you who went out of your way to leave comments 🥺 You’ve inspired me to really push myself to get this written sooner.
> 
> Anyways. I think visuals are super important, especially when it comes to fanfiction. I tried my best to give visual descriptions, but sometimes that’s a miss, lol
> 
> (Jeno and Jaemin’s outfits were the ones worn for the Black on Black live performance. Yeri’s was an outfit worn for one of her Bad Boy performances. Renjun’s was just a cute outfit he wore at an airport, lol. Also, my apologies to haechan for not giving him a detailed outfit description 😬)
> 
> OH and imagine the dreamie’s hairstyles as the ones during Go era. IMO that was the best fashion/ hair era don’t @ me
> 
> What parts did you like/ didn't like? I'd love to know!!


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